


M41 0H733P33

by CaptorvatedMotherfucker



Category: Homestuck
Genre: It may or may not stay a oneshot tho idk, M/M, Mitty is an oliveblood, Shipping Wall, and Cronus is a burgundy blood, and I've always wanted to do a bloodswap anenomeways, bloodswap au, this is based off of a picture I saw on tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptorvatedMotherfucker/pseuds/CaptorvatedMotherfucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mituna's got quite the responsibility, handling and keeping track of his wall of ships. It doesn't help that a certain asshat likes to invade his hive and throw himself a huge pity party while he updates it. Now, if only said asshat quit trying to take a peek at his *ULTIMATE-SO-SECRET-NOT-EVEN-HIS-MOIRAIL-KNOWS* OTP. That's private shit!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, I have no idea where I'm going with this. I should be updating HSNE, but what the fuck ever. Here, have this cute little bloodswap AU that may or may not be more than one chapter.

You tapped your foot as you stared up at the large wall in front of you, thinking about all of the rumors and stories you've gathered from other trolls. This was serious business, your shipping wall. It was always up-to-date. Always. You took an hour both in the morning, and the evening, each day to make absolutely certain. Most of your extra time went to either hanging with Kurloz, the always fashionable, but always silent moirail, or gathering intel for your shipping wall. It was now time to decide whether or not the information you got was factual. Rumors were always taken with a grain of salt, as they aren't always true, but Porrim has never lied to you so far. You were lucky to have such a friend who was, admittedly, better at you for gathering intel.

Your thoughts went to a screeching halt when the door to your hive opened with a loud bang. Oh, great. Cronus was here to make his daily "I'm-so-under-privelaged-and-the-dead-talk-to-me-so-you-should-feel-bad-for-me" speech to you. You quickly went to hide your ultimate OTP from him before he walked in and began to pester you for the next hour or so. You had just finished doing so when he walked into your respiteblock uninvited, a small grin on his face as he stuck his hands in his jean pockets, glancing around and whistling.

"Anythin' new on the ole shippin' wall, Mit?" He asked, glancing at you and raising an eyebrow. You sighed, running a hand through your poofy mess of hair. You could never bring yourself to be angry at him for interrupting your thoughts for longer than two seconds. 

"Maybe. Porrim told me about Meenah acting like a pitchslut around Aranea, and the pale feelings she herself seemed to have gained for Mr. Holier-Than-Thou-With-An-Extra-Large-Stick-Up-My-Ass seadweller. Can't decide if I should move those ships over to the 'possible in the near future' spaces or not," You replied, glancing at the wall. No one else but you could make heads or tails of it, as was demonstrated by Cronus' confused glances at it. You rolled your eyes, saying "Don't burst a blood vessel, Cro."

"Will not! Jus cuz I got the short end of the stick when it came to blood caste doesn't mean I'm retarded!" He protested, and you narrowed your eyes at his choice of words, though he couldn't see it. Always about the hemospectrum bullshit. 

"No, I just think you're an idio-- CRONUS WHAT THE /FUCK/ DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" You yelled as you saw him walk over to where you'd hidden your OTP (honestly not very well hidden, since you just threw a blanket over it.), and was about to remove the blanket. Your face flushed a bright olive hue, and you marched over to where he was, snatching his wrist and yanking him away. The fucker just looked at you innocently. 

"What?" He asked, causing you to groan. 

"You don't just waltz your ass over here and think that you can peek at my OTP like that!" You growled at him, letting go of his wrists. Cronus raised his hands in surrender. 

"Alright, alright! I didn't know. I won't look if it helps you sleep at day," He said quickly, causing your anger to dissipate rather quickly. You sighed, rubbing at your temples. He stared at you for a few moments, before sighing. 

"Okay, I've made an ass of myself. I'll just leave you be for now," He said as he began to walk away. And, as much as you didn't want him to leave yet, you knew that you needed to gather your thoughts and calm yourself. 

"Yeah, okay, bye," You called after him, seeing him wave before he closed the door to your respiteblock. You didn't go to move the blanket until you heard him slam your front door closed. 

As you folded up the blanket, you glanced at the ship. It was the one ship drawing that you kept from when you were 6 sweeps, deciding not to update the drawing every perigree like you did the rest. It depicted an olive and a burgundy pair of stick figures holding hands, and above them, all four quadrant symbols with a questin mark. You smiled sadly at it, before setting down the blanket and moving the PorKri pale ship over to the cluster of 'near future' ships. You left your OTP where it had always been, the area that designated ships that are destined to never sail.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry. No one on my Cherubplay seems to be active, so I thought why the hell not? 
> 
> Also I thought it would be pretty important to inform everyone that I do take fic requests. I'll write just about any pairing centered around Captors, Makaras, or Amporas (hell, even like a huge gay orgy concerning all of them [don't request it, I have no clue how to write big gay orgies]). Minus MiTula and Makara/Nitrams. I'll accept requests in my comments on whatever fic, or just send me an ask on tumblr. My current url is dave-striduhurr. 
> 
> Back to your regularly scheduled fanfiction.

A few hours later, your poor, abused door gets opened rather loudly once again. If Cronus kept that shit up, he'd owe you a new door. 

"Thank you for knocking, I appreciate it," You call to him sarcastically from your place in the kitchen, nursing a piping hot cup of tea.

"Well, I never knocked before," Cronus says as he walked into the kitchen. "Can't break tradition now, babe."

"You could at least stop trying to rip off my fucking door," You reply with a hint of annoyance. "Or just not show up. That works, too." He pouts at your words, and you already know he's going to start complaining about how no one likes him. 

"But, Miiiiit!" He whines, earning a groan from you. "You're the only one who even talks to me willingly! Everyone else thinks I'm too low on the spectrum. Even the /mutant/ doesn't like talking to me!" You rub at your temples, giving out the longest sigh. 

"Could it possibly be because you're constantly complaining about your blood color," You ask, folding your arms. "Or maybe because"-you take on a fake hurt look-" 'I'm such a nice guy, and these dames just can't look past my blood color to see what a nice guy I am! Oh, woe is me!'" Okay, that was a little mean, but it was necessary. He was glaring at you, now, fists clenched as he apparently tried burning holes in your head.

"Like you're one to talk, Mr. I-Only-Leave-My-Hive-To-Stick-My-Nose-Where-It-Doesn't-Belong-AKA-My-Friends'-Lovelives Captor," He snarls. "Or does your fashionista moirail do that for you, too, now?"

You don't even want to get into this with him right now. You sigh, facepalming. 

"What I do or don't do is not your business," You tell him calmly. "Unless it directly involves you, stay the fuck out of it, alright? You're lucky I haven't decided to install a lock to my door to keep you from coming in again." Actually, you'd never do that. Despite how you acted, you liked him being here. He sighed and nodded, then grinning at him. 

"So, anyone got the hots for me?" He asked. That day, you blushed the most intense olive, and Cronus left your house covered in honey chamomile tea. He was lucky it wasn't piping hot.


End file.
